The Cornfield
by Smileyfax
Summary: Daria and a broken Quinn come to live in Lawndale. Find out Daria's exciting past! Learn why Quinn is broken! Thrill at my liberal use of exclamation marks!
1. Chapter 1

Jake tentatively looked into the rear-view mirror at his two daughters. Daria wore a sullen expression on her face, as usual; Jake knew she expected (and would probably find out to be true) that the students at the new school wouldn't be up to her standards.

He then shifted his glance to Quinn, and a tinge of pain tugged at him. Quinn's face was vacant of all expression, as usual. At least she was looking out the window, Jake thought; for years, when not distracted by something else, she just stared at her lap. She was getting better.

He decided to take the risk and began to speak. "Girls, I just want you to know your mother and I realize it's not easy moving to a whole new town - especially for you, Daria, right?"

"Did we move?" Daria asked ironically.

Jake forced a laugh, trying to make it sound non-forced. "I'm just saying you don't make friends as easily as...uh, some people."

"Quinn, for instance?"

Jake and Daria's eyes locked briefly for a second via the rearview mirror, then Jake broke contact. A memory rose unbidden in his mind:

"Bring her back, Daria! For God's sake, BRING HER BACK!"

Jake shook his head, casting away the terrible recollection. He noticed that they had arrived at the school.

Daria exited the car first. "I'll try to help her through this difficult period of adjustment," she said, going around to Quinn's side of the car, opening the door, and gently tugging on her sleeve.

Quinn looked up at Daria, then at Jake. "Bye, dad," she said, barely above a whisper.

Jake swallowed a tear. "Bye, girls," he said.

XXXX

"Now, Quinn, what do you see here?" The school psychologist, Dr. Manson, held up a picture of two people talking in silhouette.

"A picture."

Dr. Manson hesitated for a moment. "A picture of what?" she prompted.

"Two people talking."

"That's right," Dr. Manson encouraged. "Can you make up a little story about what it is they're discussing?"

Quinn shrugged - or her shoulders twitched, the motion was so minute and abrupt it was hard to distinguish.

Dr. Manson frowned and wrote a few lines onto a notepad. "Very well, then, Quinn...Dora, can you make up a story about what these two people might be saying?"

"It's Daria."

"I'm sorry...Daria. What do you see in the picture, Dara?"

Daria frowned at her, and suddenly a sharp headache shot through Dr. Manson's head. As she massaged her temple, she missed Daria's answer. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I said, 'A herd of beautiful wild ponies running free across the plains.'"

"Uh, there aren't any ponies," Dr. Manson said, losing focus - the headache was quite intense.

"Last time I took one of these tests, they told me they were clouds. They said they could be whatever I wanted."

"That's a different test, dear..." Dr. Manson paused for a second. "Excuse me, I have a splitting headache all of a sudden."

"What?" Daria's tone of voice, despite merely sounding mildly interested, masked the fear suddenly racing through her body. "Since when?"

"Oh, it started up just a minute ago...nothing to worry about, I'll just take some aspirin later...Dora? Er, Daria? Hey, come back!"

Before Dr. Manson had finished her first sentence, Daria had left her chair and walked out the door as fast as her legs could carry her. Too surprised to notice that her headache was already subsiding, she turned to Quinn. "Does your sister always storm out like that?" she asked. Quinn didn't reply, merely repeating the almost-a-shrug. "Quinn..." Dr. Manson looked worried. "Is everything...alright?" Almost-a-shrug. "Did something happen that you would like to talk about?"

Quinn looked Dr. Manson in the eye for the first time during the interview. And, instead of talking, she began reciting an old nursery rhyme.

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,  
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.  
All the king's horses,  
and all the king's men,  
couldn't put Humpty back together again."

As Quinn got up and followed her sister out, Dr. Manson began writing furiously into her notepad.

XXXXXXXXXX

Well, I'm back! Again! Last time I published a Daria fic was over three months ago. Truthfully, I had several Daria projects brewing since then...but then my computer died and ate them all. :'( Let's see...among the stuff I lost was chapter two of The Best and Brightest, chapter eight of Omega Omega, and...well, I guess I didn't lose THAT much Daria stuff. But dangit, any loss is a bad loss!

Anyway, with my updating schedule usually sporadic, I doubt anybody noticed I was gone to begin with (haha). I suppose I'll update what fics I intend to work on in the near future in my profile, so feel free to go take a gander at that.

Oh, and the title of this fic, 'The Cornfield' is a reference to an episode of The Twilight Zone, which this fic will be loosely based off of. 


	2. Chapter 2

"How was your first day at school, Daria?"

"I almost killed the school counselor," she answered matter-of-factly, watching Quinn as she listlessly pushed her food around her plate.

Jake forced a laugh. "Ha HAAA! What a sense of humor! What about you, Quinn? How was your first day?"

Quinn met her father's eyes for a half-second, then resumed rearranging her food.

Jake carried on like Quinn had replied to him. "That's great, honey!"

The three continued to eat (or not eat, in Quinn's case) in silence for a few minutes, until the phone rang. "I've got it!" Helen said from the living room. Helen had elected to dine in there, as she could work and eat at the same time without the distraction of family bonding.

After a few moments, Helen shot out: "What? You think Quinn is WHAT? I'll have you know that my daughters - BOTH my daughters - are just fine, and if you dare suggest special education courses for either one of them again, I'll hit you with a lawsuit so fast you'll start believing in time travel. And I have one of the best lawyers in the state on call 24/7 - me." A few more moments passed. "I'm glad you see it my way, DOCTOR Manson," she said in a fake sickly-sweet tone. "Goodbye!"

She disconnected the line, went into the kitchen, and poured herself a martini. "The nerve of that woman," she muttered into her drink. "The NERVE!" she said louder. "Daria, did you know that online diploma mill reject had the absolute gall to suggest you and your sister were mentally disabled? She actually called Quinn a retard!"

"Did she say 'retard' or 'mentally retarded'?" Daria asked.

"The second one...but that's not the point, Daria! That...that WOMAN thinks she can just ghettoize you and Quinn with the other delinquents and retards -"

"Mentally retarded," Daria corrected.

"- Mentally retarded students. My girls are just as capable as any other student, damn it!" Helen had managed to polish off two martinis while ranting, and took a third back to the living room with her.

Daria glanced at Quinn again. She had to admit that Quinn was more well-adjusted these days than she was, say, immediately after Daria brought her back. Hell, she had only woken up screaming herself hoarse once or twice that year. A new low. "Eat up, Quinn," she advised.

Quinn immediately began mechanically spooning the food up, chewing it enough so that she wouldn't choke, and swallowing, taking only enough time between each bite to take a breath. "May I be excused?" she asked, standing up and heading for the stairs before Jake could say anything.

XXXX

When Daria walked into school the next morning with Quinn, Dr. Manson was waiting for both of them. She had a tense, nervous countenance.

"Now, Daria, Quinn, I spoke with your mother last night, and she gave the impression that she was not in favor of the two of you attending special classes." Daria rolled her eyes and mentally awarded Dr. Manson the Understatement of the Year award. "However, I just wanted to ask you one last time if you'd consider...voluntarily attending the classes. I think it'd be a real help to both you girls."

Daria looked at Quinn, looked at the way her eyes stared through Dr. Manson. "I'll do it, sure," Daria agreed. "Not Quinn, though. She's beyond help."

Dr. Manson seemed a little shocked by the statement. "Now, Daria, I'm sure -"

"So am I."

Dr. Manson felt the fluttering of a headache very briefly, then a tinge of relief as it vanished. She pursed her lips. "Very well, Daria," she conceded, a note of sorrow in her voice.

XXXXXXXXXX

I'm cutting this chapter a little short, but that's because Jane's coming up, as are a few answers, so this way is tidier. 


End file.
